


Rescuing a Warden

by AldreaAlien



Series: Daylen Amell [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 13:40:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3251846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AldreaAlien/pseuds/AldreaAlien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rather than waste lives in a fight, Daylen opts to be captured by whilst trying to rescue Anora. A certain elf isn't about to leave it at that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rescuing a Warden

**Author's Note:**

> In the game, Morrigan's dialogue seems to trump Zevran's, but I like both responses as well as the idea of the pair of them snarking behind the queen's back…

Zevran stumbled as they passed through the main entrance of the Arl's estate. For the first time since he had joined their little gang, Daylen wasn't at the front. He wasn't here at all. The mage had given himself up to Loghain's men so they could leave. _This can't be happening_. If he hadn't been there to see it himself, he wouldn't have believed it. He still almost couldn't believe it.

 _And all because of_ her. His gaze lifted to the woman at their head. _Ferelden's queen_. Any other time, the curvy figure would herald the usual thoughts. Right now, only murder filled his mind. All that stayed his blade was the hope that she'd a way to free Daylen.

He followed Anora, with Morrigan close at his side, as the woman and her servant raced through the mansion. _Just one chance_. That's all he would give her before that pretty face ended up in some ditch.

"Eamon!" she wailed, coming to a halt at the Arl's feet. "I may have done a terrible thing."

"What's this?" Zevran muttered, unable to stay his tongue as easily as his sword. "She throws her saviour to the wolves, and now she has second thoughts?"

Beside him, Morrigan gave a most inelegant snort. "Barely met, and already she betrays us. She and my mother would get along famously."

Eamon gaped at them. "What in Andraste's name has happened?" he demanded of them all before focusing solely on his queen. "Are you all right?"

"The Wardens have been captured," Anora responded. Well, at least she'd gotten straight to the point. Not enough for his liking, but it was a step in the right direction.

"Oh, but she leaves out the best part of the tale," Morrigan interjected. "The part where she threw us all at Loghain's henchmen and ran."

Zevran folded his arms to keep them from his dagger. "I'm still waiting for a reason not to slit her throat and toss her in the river," he growled under his breath. "I haven't heard it yet."

"What?" The Arl didn't seem any less shocked than before. Perhaps the poison had addled his mind beyond dealing with this mess. Or he hadn't gotten over the loss of his wife. "How could this happen?"

"Never mind that," the queen said, dismissing the matter with a wave of her hand. "The question is how to free him."

 _And you better have a good answer for that_. Or learn to live without sleep and sustenance. Quickly.

The Arl frowned at the woman, perhaps finally realising what Morrigan had said. "Surely you mean _them_ , your Highness? We need Alistair, too."

Right now, Zevran didn't care if it was the both of them they saved or just _him_ , so long as Daylen was in one piece.

"Yes." The queen rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. "Of course I meant Alistair, too."

Morrigan hummed, clearly focusing, then perked up. "I know where they are."

 _She does_? Zevran peered at the woman, as did everyone else. Such a smug expression. If Daylen's life wasn't on the line—

"The Grey Warden is in possession of a ring that allows me to locate him. Getting to him, however, is quite something else…"

 _Of course, the ring_. He'd never seen his lover remove it, though Zevran still wasn't certain if such attachment was due to old sentiments or habit. Or did he perhaps know of the band's properties and kept it as security for such a situation as this one? If only he'd been aware of her ability to track Daylen's precise location sooner, then they could've waylaid the guards. As it was, it would be a far easier task to sneak into whatever cell they held the mage and free him if they knew precisely where he lay.

"Cauthrien will take him to Fort Drakon," Anora said. "Getting in will be no small feat…"

The massive building in the middle of Denerim? The one brimming with guards loyal to Loghain? _Not so simple a task after all_. Still, it was worth a try, for failure would reap the same results as doing nothing at all. The kingdom needed the Grey Wardens to halt the Blight and he … he needed to know Daylen was alive. A state that could change all too quickly within the fort's dungeons.

"Perhaps I can appeal to the nobles," the Arl murmured. "With your voice, your highness, they'll see reason and demand for the Grey Wardens' release."

Zevran left the nobleman and his queen to squabble over the correct way to rescue the pair. What the Arl proposed was too slow. Even if it worked, it would be an easy thing for Loghain to order Daylen's death before anyone knew, never mind stop him.

The sure, but soft, footsteps of another followed him. _Morrigan_. She must have either tired of their talks as he did or was content to wait. Well, he wasn't going to sit about. He couldn't. Every inch of his body demanded he take action. "Tell me, woman: would this ring of yours still work if Daylen were to die wearing it?"

"Its purpose is to track a living being. As such, I see no reason why it should work on a dead one."

 _That is one thing at least_. He really wished he had known all this sooner. "We should set about rescuing them as soon as possible."

Her nose wrinkled as he faced her. "And how do you propose we do that? 'Tis an _army_ within the fort's walls. We few could not hope to match their might. A far better choice would be to—"

"You won't help?" he snapped. "Then stay. I can do it without you." He already knew where to start looking and he'd likely find an easier job of getting past the defences without her.

She gave a sarcastic little laugh. "If you wish to throw your live away on such a foolish endeavour, far be it from me to stop you. Go, then." Morrigan wave her hands in the air in a shooing motion.

Zevran strode off, grumbling under his breath. _Perhaps Leliana_ … No, he could do this alone. He _would_ and he'd succeed. All he needed was a plausible lie to get into the fort.

His mind made up, he paused only long enough to gather supplies—potions, poultices and a few of the hardier poisons—and made for the main entrance.

He'd just entered the foyer when the doors at the far end swung open. A figure in chainmail strode through, followed swiftly by a second man in slightly heavier armour. It was the same issue as the guards who'd taken the Grey Wardens away. Had these men been sent to deliver news they already knew?

Zevran halted on the stairs as, their back still to him, the first man pulled off his helmet and thrust it into his comrade's arms. "I am _never_ wearing chainmail again. Not for anyone." His gauntleted fingers raked the black hair from his face. "Ugh. That goes double for the helmets. How do you even breathe under all that metal?"

That voice. It was unmistakable. It couldn't be—

" _Daylen_?" How could they have escaped? It had to be some trick or— But no, the other man had also removed his helmet, revealing it to be Alistair and surely he wouldn't leave a fellow Grey Warden behind.

The first man turned from the chuckling Alistair to face him. Zevran had never welcomed such a sight as much as he did now.

A soft smile lifted one corner of the mage's mouth. "You managed to get back without any trouble then? You _did_ get the queen to safety, right?" He looked around as if expecting her to materialise from the very air. "Is she still here?"

Zevran descended the rest of the steps and crossed the flagstones in silence. It really was him. They had escaped, though Maker knew how. And his first thoughts upon reaching safety were towards the very queen who'd left them to their fate.

The smile fled. "Zev?" Daylen's gaze swept over him, slowly. Then his forehead creased, concern plain. "Were you going somewhere?"

"Going somewhere?" Zevran echoed as he neared, the words coming out as a snarl. He grasped the man's shoulders. The metal links of the man's stolen armour bit into his skin, but he was too angry to care. "Yes, I was 'going somewhere'. I was on my way to _rescue you_ , you stubborn, foolish man!"

"Oh…" He gave a sheepish grin. "Guess I handled that for you."

"So I see." Ice should've formed between them at the words. His grip tightened, the links digging deeper. " _Never_ risk yourself like that again."

Daylen shook his head. "I can't promise that."

"I—" His voice caught and he tried again, desperately hoping it hadn't been noticed. "We need you alive … to fight the darkspawn."

He squeezed Zevran's shoulders, his already strong grip seeming stronger still within the gauntlets. "I'm not dead. I can, and _will_ , still do that."

Zevran recalled the heaviness with which they guards had dealt to the Grey Wardens, knocking them out with a deft swung of a fist. "Luck." The only reason they had not died was likely because Loghain or one of his cronies did not yet wish for them to die. "What if they had decided to slit your throats before you woke? I… _we_ would've lost everything."

"You don't think that possibility hadn't occurred to me? Whatever you think, it was still an acceptable risk to take." Daylen bowed his head and mumbled, "The alternative outcomes were far worse."

Worse? How could anything else have been worse than the last of Ferelden's Grey Wardens dying as the Blight grew? "We could've fought our way out."

"They outnumbered us three-to-one."

"Why does that matter?" The darkspawn in the deep roads had come at them in similar numbers. It hadn't stopped them from achieving their goal. In fact, the mage had been the one to severely injure, if not outright slaughter, most of the creatures.

"If we _had_ fought, they would have killed us all. Alistair, Morrigan, me…" Daylen glanced up. Echoes of nightmares best left forgotten haunted the depths of his dark eyes. " _You_. Giving myself up was the only way to protect everyone."

He swallowed. His throat suddenly seemed too tight. He thought the mage had only done so for the queen's sake, to keep her identity secret. "Daylen—"

"It's done, Zev. I'm back. No point dwelling on it." Daylen slipped free of Zevran's grasp and, rubbing at his shoulders, made for the stairs. "I'm going to change out of his armour. Then I must speak with Anora. Maker knows what Eamon's been telling her. We'll talk later if you want."

Zevran watched his lover disappear into the hall beyond. A strange uncertainty gripped him and he toyed with the small jewelled hoop in his ear. They would talk later, of that he had no doubt, but not about _this_ …


End file.
